This Is Why We Have Jails...

Here's a little quickie before I leave to Cuse...

Apparently, conservative radio talk show host, Rush Limbaugh, was detained at Palm Beach International Airport for carrying a bottle of Viagra without a prescription.

Eww. Screw getting arrested for the Viagra (no pun intended); he should be put away for having sex!

Eww, Eww, Eww, Ewwwwwwwwwww.

And no pun intended on the whole "little quickie" thing. Eww, Eww. Never again will I put Rush and "quickie" together in the same blog entry.

I think I'm going to throw up now. And go join the Church and pledge a life of chastity. Oh wait... never mind that.

Another Day, Another Trip to Syracuse

Well, now that I got my room all sorted out, I have to make yet another 5-hour journey to the Cuse. There's some photo stuff that I left behind from the last time I was there, and I need to bring it back to NYC. I also figured to use some of the time that I was up there to head back into the darkroom and get some prints developed.

I really need to get a scanner so I can start posting some of these pictures. But, that ain't gonna happen until I gets me a J-O-B, so, heh, looks like that's going to have to wait.

Hell, I can't even find my digital camera... where the hell did it run off to?

So, for my NYC peeps, ta-ta, till Thursday, when I zoom back to the city just in time to watch the brand-new "Superman" movie on an IMAX screen. Now, THAT should be some hot stuff right there.

Can you believe the tickets were 15 dollars!!!

Sigh. That's what happens when you live in the most expensive city in America.

Trading Spaces

It might have taken awhile, but I finally got my room to look like, well, a room. Since I got back from Syracuse, I've been undergoing a massive cleaning effort to rid myself of all the junk that I've collected over the years in order to make room for the new junk that I brought back from 5 years of college. Even though I started the job about three weeks ago, I couldn't come close to finishing it off because I was waiting for furniture to be delivered specifically for my room. So, I've been living in a hovel since I got back, with things tossed all over the place. If you would have seen it, you would have mistook me for my old roommate, Zulay, with her infamous capacity to cover every single open space on her bedroom floor with crap.

But over the weekend, my furniture got here, and after three days of getting it all situated, I must say that I'm pretty freaking impressed. My room actually looks like, gasp, a room!

See, I'm one of those people that can't get anything done if the space that they live in is in a complete mess. When my room was all tossed about, I felt like I was missing order and purpose. I fell behind on my bills, didn't blog as often, lost track with people, and just felt like I was in a bit of a rut. Sure, I've been bumming it since I got back from college, but at the very least, if my room had been organized, I would have had some kind of incentive to at least maintain some semblance of business as usual. Alas, I could not, especially when I was tripping over my old Ninja Turtles from third grade every five seconds.

So, my main computer is back up and running, I can see my floor now, and things are looking up... My room looks like a room now! I'm so happy!!!

:-)

Football, Futbol, and Doofballs

Since I got back from college, I've been on complete bum status, taking advantage of my free time and spending it hanging around the house, seeing a few friends every once in awhile, playing some video games, and watching the World Cup. (Hey, why not? I haven't had a real break in more than three years!) "World Cup," you ask? Yes, that wonderful little tournament that only about 3 billion people watch every four years. I didn't care much for the game of soccer before I left for England two and a half years ago, but, as you can imagine, it's kinda hard to live among the English for any extended amount of time and not develop some kind of fondness for the "beautiful game." There are still some things that I haven't got the complete gist of (like how "offside" penalties work), but for the most part, I understand what's going on.

So, here I am, years later, actually paying attention to a tournament that most Americans are only too happy to ignore. ("Not enough scoring!") And, thus far, it's been pretty cool. Team USA's horrible first-game performance notwithstanding, World Cup 2006 has yet to disappoint after about a week of play. I kind of wish that I were over in England right now, watching the games in a country that's more enthusiastic about the game, but whatever, at least the World Cup is even ON over here in the US. And not just on some random cable channel, but on ABC and ESPN, of all places. So, all is not lost.

I must say, however, that the announcers that these American networks have selected to call the play-by-play for World Cup matches absolutely suck. Like, seriously. Why are you talking about the NBA Finals in the middle of a tight soccer match? And why do you keep on mentioning the fact that Team USA is going to have a hard time in its upcoming match against Italy simply based on the results of 5 soccer matches dating back to 1934? That's like saying I'm going to whup some kid's ass in the street because Ali beat Frazier. You can't go and say that one team is more likely to lose to another when there isn't a single player on both sides that played each other previously. How about direct comparisons between existing players? Who's faster? Who's stronger? But, no, I guess that's too much to ask the likes of ESPN and ABC.

Announcers, do all three American World Cup viewers a favor and simply shut the fuck up, especially if you don't know what the hell you're talking about.

Now, Univision gets it right. There's nothing like excited Latino announcers screaming "GOOOOOOOOLLLLLL!!!" That's all we need to hear. That, and actual commentary about what's happening on the field, not about what Shaq had for breakfast this morning.

While all this wonderful soccer stuff is going on, I'm sure more Americans heard about that awful motorcycle accident that Pittsburgh Steeler quarterback Ben Roethlisberger got into. Now, I'm not going to sit here and make a commentary over whether or not people should be riding motorcycles, like many sports reporters have been waxing poetic about in media. And I'm not going to suggest that some over-reactionary politician in Pennsylvania go and draft a law that makes it illegal to ride a motorcycle without a helmet. But, that doesn't mean that I'm going to go feel sorry for the guy, either. While I'm happy to hear that he's not incredibly hurt and is expected to recover real soon, at the same time, one has to question the brains on this dude. (Prior to the accident, of course) So, you wear a helmet when you play football, but you don't wear a helmet when you're riding on the "fastest production motorcycle on the planet?" Oh, AND you don't have a motorcycle license? What ever happened to being "the safest rider I can be?"

Can you say... "peanuthead?" I wonder if he can, with that jaw injury he suffered as a result of his momentary brainfart. Yes, life can be unpredictable, and many curveballs will be thrown your way over the course of one's time here on this planet, but if you can actually improve your chances for continued survival with little to no effort, why not take advantage?

Is a helmet really that bad of a thing to put on your head? Especially coming from a football player, a dude who should be used to wearing helmets already.

Uhh...You Sure You Got the Right Person?

This past fall semester, I had been messing around with this girl, who, to make a long story short, just didn't wind up working out for me in the end. Shortly after the Christmas break, I ended things between us, and well, while we still maintained a friendship afterward, I never bothered to give her another go. So whatever, spring semester came and went, and we both moved on.

So, imagine my surprise when, right in the middle of my departure period from SU, I get a voicemail from this girl's "ex-man."

"Yo, my boys told me that they saw you and [the girl] together up at [local amusement park] last week. Yo, I hope that wasn't you, doggy, because, son, if it was, I'm going to kill you. I ain't playin, doggy. Straight up, I'll kill you. I know what you look like. And if I see you around my way, I'll kill you. And, I'll slap that bitch, too. And you can tell that stupid bitch that I called you, too. I don't care. So, son, I really hope it wasn't you, yo. Cuz, if it was, you'll be hearing from me real soon."

I had to listen the message again to make sure that this wasn't one of my friends playing a trick on me or something. After I listened again, and checked the caller ID on my cell phone, I saw it really was him.

And that's when I began to laugh hysterically.

Like, WOOOWW. Who does that? The dude actually called up my cell phone number (we had each other's numbers because I had to speak to him once for something completely unrelated to the girl) and threatened me over voicemail. Never mind I had never seen him (or vice versa) before. The truth was that I hadn't even seen the girl for almost a month at that point in time, and during the time period he said I was with her, I was still up in Syracuse, doing what I had to do. I have no idea who she was with, but whoever it was, they better watch out, because apparently, this girl has a case of the ex!!!

What was even funnier was that I didn't even know that this dude was once her boyfriend until much after I stopped messing with her. She told me that they were "childhood friends." (An example of what made me end things) So, for him to be calling me, he was assuming that I knew that they were together, and that she had been honest about their relationship. Sounds like he was made a fool BIG TIME, and now, here he was, sinking to embarrassing levels just to regain some lost pride. After a few moments, I actually kind of felt sorry for him.

I had two choices; either I call her up and let her know about the phone call, or I call him and confront him directly over the phone and tell him that he had the wrong person. Quickly, I decided to just give him a call back and not tell her anything. Whatever was happening between them, I wanted it to STAY between them. If I called her, I was putting myself right into it.

His voicemail picked up, so I decided to return the favor.

"Yo, what's good. I got your message, and listen, while I don't appreciate the fact that you actually threatened me over voicemail, given the circumstances, I'm willing to let it slide. With that said, I'm going to tell you straight up; I haven't seen [the girl] in almost a month, and the time that you said I was with her, I was still in Syracuse. As a matter of fact, I have yet to leave. And to be honest with you, I haven't even BEEN to [amusement park] for almost 9 years. I don't know who said that they saw me up there, but considering that you haven't even seen me before, and I've never come into contact with your peoples, I find it hard to believe that they could single me out in a crowded place like that. So, bottom line, you called the wrong person. I'm sorry to hear you're going through this situation, but yo, speaking from experience, sometimes you just gotta learn to cut your losses and move on. So, with that said, good luck, take it easy, and honestly, if you want to call me back, I'll be around, but I'll just tell you the same thing I just told you now. Later."

Three weeks later, and he never called me back. Hopefully, he took my advice and believed what I said. I don't need to have some random ex chasing me around for something I didn't do.

He doesn't have to know about last semester, though. :-)

That's What "Vibrate" is For!

Before college, I had the pleasure of going to school in an era when cell phones had not yet reached the hands of every single person with a set of lips. I didn't have to deal with ringtones constantly interrupting class time, and people blocking my way between classes because they were too busy having a meaningless conversation with their buddies on another floor. I got out of elementary and high school just in the nick of time.

Now, teachers have to deal with these retarded youngins who look for every opportunity to gab on their cellies. And with all these damn ringtones floating around, more often than not, class time is interrupted by the sounds of some overplayed pop song. In retaliation, schools across the country have adopted "no cell phone" policies, where students caught with a cell phone on school grounds will have their mobiles confiscated. (ESPECIALLY in situations when students refuse to turn off their phones during classes.) Of course, leave it up to the combination of youthful rebelliousness and modern technology to serve up a counter-attack.

Enter high-frequency ringtones. These ringtones are apparently so high-pitched, that older adults cannot hear it. Leaning much on the assumption that our hearing sensitivity diminishes with age, students have been outfitting their cell phones with these ringtones in order to be able to hear their phones without teachers having a clue about it.

Ironically, these sounds were developed by shopkeepers in Britain to repel teenagers from loitering around their establishments afterschool! (Heh, heh, imagine screaming teenagers running away from a store in horror when hearing this sound)

Want to see if you can hear the sound? Click on the following link to test it out:

http://download.npr.org/anon.npr-mp3/atc/atc_teenbuzz.mp3

Man, I clicked on that link, and let me say that the sound, emanating from my tinny laptop speakers, had me coiling in horror. It is so annoying.

If I were in high school, and some kid had this sound as a ringtone, I would have to hit them in the face hard with a textbook. Seriously.

Why can't they just put the phone on vibrate, like everyone else?

Plenty of Truth in "Inconvenient Truth"

This past Friday, I had the pleasure of watching the documentary, "An Inconvenient Truth," which focuses on the very real effects that global warming has had on our environment and our lives, and what will inevitably happen if nothing is done about this universal issue. After taking time off to recover from his controversial loss in the 2000 Presidential Elections, former Vice-President Al Gore began to dedicate his time to lead a campaign to reduce carbon dioxide emissions globally and get the US Government to pass legislation that will do much to reduce America's share of pollution in the world. The movie itself, directed by Davis Guggenheim, follows Al Gore as he gives lectures in cities around the world detailing the science behind global warming, showing real-life evidence of its existence and does it in such a way that practically anyone with eyeballs can understand. And trust me when I say his argument is VERY convincing (and surprisingly, it's not boring in the least bit). When I left the movie, I felt like I wanted to grab everyone by the neck and tell them personally to make efforts to reduce their wasteful consumption and to go and watch the movie to find out how. It really is a powerful work.

Al Gore, while he does take the time to bash the Bush Administration every once in awhile, doesn't stoop to the level of making the entire movie a political piece pitting Democrats vs. Republicans in his effort to get the importance of environmental awareness across. Yes, he does take the time in the movie to paint himself as the ultimate environmental crusader during his political career, but considering that much of it is true, it certainly isn't without merit. As he said in the movie, global warming isn't a political issue, but rather it's the biggest moral issue facing human civilization. And because of this, he makes it very clear that all people, no matter their political affiliation, need to take steps to reduce pollution, or else, we won't have much of a life left to live.

The biggest evidence that we are currently seeing the consequence of increased carbon dioxide emissions? Last summer's hurricane season. And Al Gore makes the bulletproof argument that its only going to get worse REAL soon if nothing is done about our emissions.

Critics have universally acclaimed this movie and have marked it as a "must-see." And, after seeing it myself, I happen to agree. Go out, see this movie, and take personal steps to foster change. Trust me, you certainly won't regret it. If anything, you'll most certainly regret it if you don't.

For more information, check out the movie's website.

More Finds From My Closet

It's been about four days since I started cleaning out my closet, and well, I'm still not done. Trust me when I say I have a lot of stuff in there! Then again, I'm taking a long time, too, because I'm just going through all my things, little by little, and taking the time to rediscover everything in there. Some of the more interesting finds:


1) My old grade school signature book.

Now THIS is some funny shit. It looks like my grade school had a shitload of these things left over from the 70's, and they decided to give them to us when we graduated from 8th Grade all the way back in 1997. In the front, I filled out my name, date of graduation, teachers, names of best friends (none of whom I've kept in contact with past high school), and, heh heh, college of choice. You know what I said back then?

"M.I.T"

HA HA!!!



2) One of my daily journals from grade school

Taking up a whopping 12 pages, the biggest story I wrote about in this journal was about an encounter that I had with this girl at a local McDonald's, where, basically, I took every chance I could to stare at the "most beautiful girl I had ever seen." I stared so much, that I wound up hitting the shit out of my little Godbrother with a dine-in tray while I was throwing it away. ("I didn't know he was there! I wasn't looking!")

Man, it was so simple back then...



3) My "Pocket Simon Says"

I don't even know if they sell these things anymore, but I'm sure everyone older than the age of 16 remembers the little electronic game, "Simon Says," where you had to accurately recall what order to press four different colored buttons right after the game gave you an example of what to press. I use to be super good with that game.


4) A book from the Brooklyn Tech HS library

I've always said that when I was in HS, I never set foot in the school library. Well, apparently, that didn't stop me from stealing a book. I remember when I was given the news my senior year that I couldn't get my HS diploma unless I returned a book that I "borrowed" from the library. Man, I argued and argued that "NEVER" got books from that library. I argued the point so well, I got the school officials to strike the book off my record and they gave me my diploma. Well, here I am, five years later, digging through my closet, and I find the book that they said I never returned.

HA HA!!!


The second I can find my digital camera through all this crap, I will post pictures with me and some of the stuff that I found while I was cleaning.

Everything But Skeletons in the Closet

When I was moving out of Syracuse, I had to go through 5 years worth of stuff that I had collected over the years and throw away some of the stuff that I no longer needed. Not only did I lessen the load of stuff I would be taking back home, but I also had the opportunity to take a small trip through time as I re-discovered old books, clothes, love letters, greeting cards, and pictures that I've stored since 2001. It was certainly a small trip through my college years as I was able to relive my the experience over again while packing my stuff away.

Now that I'm back home, I have to do the same thing all over again as I try to make room for all the stuff I brought back from college. Except this time, instead of going through stuff I haven't seen since the beginning of college, I'm finding stuff that I haven't seen for over a decade. Thus far, I've gone through half my closet, for example, and I've found old toys that I haven't played with since I was 12, old parents' letters from grade school, old school uniforms, ancient HW assignments, decade-old clothes, my Nerf weapon collection, award trophies, pictures and even my old "Robin" Halloween costume from when I was 6-years old. In many cases, I forgot that I even ever had any of those things, so thus far, it's been a crazy trip through time and memories for me, and I'm not even half done.

Among those things, I found an old hoodie that my ex left behind, along with a dollar and some change, during one of the times that we traveled to New York together about three years ago. I'm torn over whether or not I should throw it away. Hell, I'm torn over whether or not I should throw a lot of the stuff away that I've found. But don't think I'm a packrat or anything; I've already filled four garbage bags with old clothes and things I don't need, and I haven't even gone through half of my closet. It's just that a lot of this stuff has sentimental value!

It's definitely going to be interesting going through the rest of that closet. I wonder what else I'll find?

The Perfect Storm (Washington Heights Edition)

A funny thing happened on my way back to New York yesterday.

Just as I was getting ready to pat myself on the back for making good time after about two and a half hours of driving, the skies opened up, and rain came down faster than you can say, "WTF?" It was raining so hard, that my visibility went from about two miles to 4 feet. Within mere minutes, the highway that I was traveling on got flooded, and suddenly, my wonderful late-spring, early afternoon drive back to NYC turned into a test of endurance and luck. Before I knew it, I was leaning forward in my seat, cursing out every one and their mother on the highway because between thing or another, either people were simply drifting across lanes without signaling, or refused to turn on their lights. Little did I know that my troubles would not stop there.

Once I hit New York city limits, I was forced to slow down even more when I ran into some pre-rush hour traffic that had been affected by the torrential downpour coming down over our heads. To make matters worse, I wasn't going straight home, but rather, I had to drop off my Washington Heights-bound former roommate, Pedro, who had accompanied me back to NYC for the ride from Syracuse. For those unfamiliar with New York geography, Washington Heights is a region in uptown Manhattan, that, although physically not too far away from my residence in the Bronx, has one huge downside: incredibly stupid, aggressive drivers. Stupid, as in, "I'm going to break every fucking driving law imaginable just so I can get to my destination." I'm talking double and triple parking, driving backwards, changing lanes without signaling, illegal U-Turns, tailgating, and constant horn-honking in an area where there are literally a million cars packed into into 5 sq. miles. The vast majority of the residents that live in the Heights are of Dominican descent, and most of the horrible drivers are immigrant Dominican cab drivers that act like they are still driving back home in DR. Trust me, I'm not even making this up or stereotyping; it's the utter truth. You do not want to be on a road with these kinds of drivers. They'll get you wrecked in an accident, and then have the balls to walk up to you and curse you out for making them miss a cab fare. Despite these people, here I was driving right into this bedlam someone had the nerve to dub a "neighborhood" during the middle of a freaking rainstorm. You don't "drive" when you're in the Heights. You simply survive and live to tell the tale, if you're lucky.

So, here I am, driving through, cursing cab drivers out left and right, when all of a sudden, I notice my battery light blinked on and my radio began to die. "Awwwwwww shit," I said to myself. My car's battery was getting ready to die in the middle of this utter insanity. I was praying that my car wouldn't just conk out in the middle of a busy intersection, hoping that somehow, my car could squeeze out just enough energy to drop off Pedro and get me back home to the Bronx. I was able to get Pedro, home, but then, right as I was making my way back, my car simply conked out in the worst possible place anyone could be; in the middle of the 4-way intersection on 181st and Broadway, the busiest intersection in the Heights. Without thinking twice about it, I popped the car into neutral, got out, and pushed the damn thing over to a corner to get it out of the way of traffic, almost getting killed in the process by drivers who yelled out of their windows screaming in Spanish, "push faster!" Within a minute, I got the car safely out of the way, and located a police car that was on the other side of the intersection, hoping they could give me a jumpstart so I could be on my way home. Thankfully, the police officer, who seemed to really hate being in this neighborhood, maneuvered through the traffic and got to me, giving me the jumpstart that I needed to get home...

Unfortunately, the jump didn't get me home... I conked out again about two blocks away. Once again, I jumped out, dodging cars in the process, and pushed my car up to a black cab and saw an older Dominican gentleman getting out; apparently, he had just finished parking his car, and was getting ready to get some groceries at a nearby bodega. Quickly, I called him and explained what happened to me in Spanish and asked him if he could help me with a jump. He explained to me that if the police officer's car couldn't give me enough of a charge to get me home, then there was nothing more that he could do with regards to a jump. Instead, he suggested, I should take his space when he was done shopping, and go to a nearby auto shop and get my alternator replaced. It made sense, and considering 30,000,000 drivers breathing down my neck, it was the best choice I had. So, after about five minutes, he came back, got his car out, and helped me push my car into his spot. The dude even put in a quarter for me into the nearby parking meter. In a classic moment, the driver was cursing out other Dominican cab drivers who were looking to steal the space as I was pushing my car into the spot. "No, not this one," he screamed in Spanish, as cab driver after cab driver came and went in the 30 seconds it took for me to get my car into the spot. That guy definitely saved my ass, and I made sure to thank him profusely for the help he gave.

The irony certainly wasn't lost on me that one of the very people that I have grown to hate on the roadways actually saved my ass.

Once I got the car situated, I called my mother, told her what happened, and she offered to make the trip up into the Heights, along with her boyfriend, to pick me up after she left work and see if they could help me get the car out of there. Of course, it was at this time when we both found out that it had rained so much, that the subways in New York were flooded out. Which, of course, only meant one thing: even more traffic. Since, I knew it was going to take my mother about two and a half hours to make it 7 miles uptown through the traffic, I stopped in at a nearby Chinese-Cuban restaurant, ate some food, walked over to a nearby auto store, priced an alternator, and just waited for my mother and her boyfriend to make it through. Since the traffic was too bad for me to get the car out of there at that point in time, they came prepared with a plan:

At about 10 o'clock, we were going to return, get the car out of the spot, and have the BF actually push my car into the Bronx with his car. As in, he was going to hit my car from behind with his car, through Washington Heights, across a bridge, and into the Bronx, on a Friday night in New York. Considering I had no other choice, I decided to go for it.

Man, I must say that after going through that whole thing, that had to be one of the craziest things I've ever done. Between all kinds of people coming close to hitting me, everyone and their mother honking their horns, and everyone screaming in Spanish, "turn on your lights," (No, I can't because my battery's dead!!!) my heart was beating about five times faster than normal. Despite the danger, somehow, however, I actually had fun with the whole situation. The shit was so crazy, what else could you do BUT laugh?

Thankfully, we made it into the Bronx, and got the car close to an auto repair shop that could install a new alternator the next morning. Once I locked up the car, I finally had the chance to head home and go to bed to recover from the incredibly long day. And to think, it all started off with a wonderful, late spring time drive back down from Syracuse...

A Picture is Worth a Thousand Farewells

"In the past few days, there have been a number of incidents involving students who have urinated into trash receptacles, smeared fecal matter onto walls, and have left behind evidence of their sexual activities in stairwells. We will no longer tolerate such activity, and are prepared to take sweeping measures that will ensure that every student within this building will take responsibility for these actions, should they keep occurring."

There's nothing like a big fat reminder that you're living in the dorms when you receive a letter like this underneath your door. "Fecal matter on walls?" Ewww. I mean, c'mon guys, if you wanted to change the paint color of your room, there are better ways of doing it, man.

Since I've been in Cuse, I've been staying inside Edwin's dorm room (my now former roommate) while he takes summer classes to complete his degree requirements. It worked out well for me, because he was given a split double dorm room, which in effect, is two rooms in one, so, he chills on one side, while I occupy the other. The only bad thing about the arrangement is that I do not have constant internet access, so I have to steal the ethernet cable off of his computer every once in awhile to check e-mail and to post another entry into the blog. But, it's not like I can be on the internet all day, anyways. I did come to Cuse to do labwork in the darkrooms, after all, so it's not like I'm twiddling my thumbs waiting for the opportunity to hop online. It works out.

Thus far, I'm about a third of the way done with my labwork. I got a decent amount done yesterday after being in the lab for about 8 hours straight. While I don't mind working in the darkroom, the only bad thing about it is that for all those 8 hours, I'm on my feet, so by the time I walk out of there, I feel like I've been holding up the Earth for 3000 years. My feet notwithstanding, photo lab work is almost... soothing. I mean, you're busy making waves inside of a developing tray most of the time, waiting for images to pop out. It can be rather boring after awhile, but as long as you have some decent tunes in your ear, it should be fine, and the time passes relatively quickly when you're really into it.

After the lab closed at 6, I chilled with some folks to pass the time and to say my goodbyes. I had dinner with my friend, Jen, over at Uno's for a bit, as we caught up, outlined our future, and just chilled inside a local mall. I hadn't chilled with her for almost a year, so it was great actually seeing her again for more than just a minute as we passed each other on the way to class or work. She's moving onto med school in the next few days, so her academic nightmare lives on for another 3 years. I can't say I envy her. The thought of more school right now is enough to make me puke...

After I chilled with Jen, I drove on over to another mall to meet up with some of my old Starbucks peeps to watch "X-Men 3" for a second time. It wasn't bad, especially since my ticket was paid for. (Thanks, Aimee! :-) ) I sure do miss chilling with them, now that I'm not longer an employee for the Green Empire. I had some fun times working for the 'Fucks, but it was time for me to move on. Like my mother kept on saying, "You didn't go to college to make coffee." I remember when we all used to work together this time last year, and we all kept on swearing that we'd get away from Starbucks and move onto other jobs. Well, a year later, it appears that I'm the only one that actually moved on. There's a funny dynamic about working in that place, because as much as we all hate it, we keep on coming back. I guess it's because we all have love for one another, and it's our friendships that keep us there. Still, there's only but so much that friendship aspect could keep me coming back when everything else was completely horrible. Yes, I miss them all, but I definitely do not miss any of the BS I went through while working there. Regardless of all that, it was good to relive it all yesterday with them, and I'm kinda sad that I'll be leaving them all for good as I move on in life.

Hopefully, I'll keep in contact with most of the people staying behind in Cuse, but we all know how that works.

Well, I've got to get to the darkroom again, and I should be running into a few more friends as I continue my "Farewell Tour" of Syracuse. So, until next time....